4.2 | t e n .

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          HE LOOMED OVER her, his figure seeming too fucking real to be a ghost

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          HE LOOMED OVER her, his figure seeming too fucking real to be a ghost.

"No, this isn't- this is impossible."
She stammered, her eyes filling with tears as she dropped her gaze to his shoes.  He began to circle around her kneeling figure as a laugh tumbled from his mouth.

"Impossible?  I didn't realize the Winchester's have that word in their vocabulary."

"You can't be here."
She tried again, remaining unmoving and completely shellshocked.  Her heart was beating much too fast.

"Aw, why not?  Too much tension for you to handle?  Am I bringing back some bad, bad memories?"

"We burned you.  We fucking burned you.  We gave you a hunter's funeral and everything-"

"Yeah?!"
He suddenly gripped her hair in his fingers and ripped her head back to look up at him, his jaw rippling with anger.
"That was your first mistake."

A tear trickled down her face as she forced in a shaky breath, pain erupting from her neck to her scalp.
"What?"

He sneered, letting go of his hold on her hair and shoving her forward to her hands and knees.

"I'm not a hunter.  I never fucking was, and I never fucking should've been."

She choked on a sob as she heard something being shattered to her left.  The room darkened, and she realized the lamp had been the victim.

"Richie, I'm so sorry-"

"Save it, bitch.  It was all your fucking fault, anyway.  From the very beginning, it was always you."

"No."
She whimpered, but she was suddenly thrown back towards the wall, her spine now held firmly against the wallpaper as she struggled against the spirit's grip.

"Don't act like you've forgotten.  I don't know how you could.  I sure as hell haven't."
He stalked towards her slowly, his eyes glaring into her as she cowered away.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about."
She stumbled, watching as the man walked forward and gripped her chin in his hand, squeezing her cheeks in rather painfully.

"I guess I'll just have to remind you, then."
He smirked, an unfamiliar fire of evil glowing in his eyes. Makayla snarled- this was not the happy-go-lucky Richie she used to know.

"Oh, it must've been- what, '02 or '03?"

The girl's nose began to twitch in anger as she struggled against his hold on her.  When she offered no response, the ghost continued.

"We were in Canarsie- it was my first real hunt.  I had heard of ghosts and werewolves and vamps from a friend of mine, but I had no idea just how deep this evil ran... I was in way over my head."

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